


Effulgence

by flutteringwisp



Series: Duality [2]
Category: Glee, Lost Girl
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutteringwisp/pseuds/flutteringwisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything that happened with his father, Jesse world-view begins to fall apart and he starts to have an identity crisis, fleeing to the only place that seems bearable— his mother’s.</p><p>None of the relationships are strongly featured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Lost Girl/Glee crossover universe where Glee characters are set in the Lost Girl universe and are all Fae. There’s a lot of unmentioned backstory because this is taken from my RP group, [Faented Glee](faentedglee.tumblr.com) (still running as of April 2014) but I wrote it to work as a stand-alone piece. Jesse is an ifreet– an infernal djinn that feeds off adoration– with leanan-sidhe ancestry.

_"Ladies and Gentleman, we have arrived at JFK International Airport in New York City. When the seat-belt sign has been turned off, you may retrieve your carry-on luggage from the overhead compartment and exit the plane at the front or the rear and proceed to baggage claim. We thank you for flying Delta, and we hope you enjoy your stay in the Big Apple."_

Jesse stared blankly at the back of the seat in front of him as a portly, middle-aged man grunted out of the seat next to him. His mind had been buzzing ever since he left Morrígan’s house, but it’d been buzzing with indecipherable white noise. The minutes flew by as eventually the other passengers disembarked. He didn’t move. He just kept staring directly ahead, lost in the noise.

"Sir?" the soft voice of a man called. The man repeated more earnestly, " _Sir_? Sir!” Jesse felt himself being shaken back into his own mind. He turned and looked up into the concerned face of a handsome young man. “Sir, are you alright?”

"Wh-what?" Jesse stammered and blinked wildly, "Oh, um.. yes. I’m sorry, yes, I’m fine." He feigned a weak smile.

"That’s good to hear, sir," the man gave him a genuine and comforting smile. "We’ve landed, so I’m going to have to ask you to exit the plane, please. Do you have a bag that I can get for you?

"No, no, that’s alright, I uh," Jesse stood and stepped out of the aisle, "I didn’t bring anything on with me. Thank you, though." Feigning another weak smile, Jesse sidled past the flight attendant and left the plane. 

In a blur of what seemed like seconds, Jesse found himself at the Arrivals looking at dozens of cars and taxis picking up businesspeople and reunited relatives, couples, and other lone travelers like himself. It was chaos, but that was JFK, that was New York, the City That Never Sleeps.

He hailed a taxi and entered. The driver had gelled hair, like Blaine. Blaine… what was he going to do about Blaine? What was he going to do about any of this?

"Where to or get out, Mister," the driver gruffly snapped at him.

"Sorry, um.. the east end of 52nd, please," Jesse instructed. He turned to watch the lights of the city flash by as he fell back into his thoughts. What was he doing? Why had he come here, of all places, here?

When he left the Morrígan’s house, he immediately drove home. But when he arrived, he couldn’t get himself out of the car. His home was too real, filled with too many memories of Blaine, of Quinn, of his numerous dark fae friends, even of Sheryl. He couldn’t go in there, not even when Camille wandered in the garage and called to him.

He then drove to Quinn’s house, maybe the comfort of a friend would be just what he needed, but when he arrived he quickly decided against it and drove away again. He started heading in the direction of Blaine’s house, but… he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

So Jesse just drove. He went to the interstate and he just drove. Before he knew it, he found himself heading to Cleveland, but he had nowhere to go there, no safe haven. That’s when he decided to flee. There was only one place left to go, and he bought a ticket on the last flight out to New York.

But why here? Jesse couldn’t expect his mo- “Hey, buddy!” the cab driver yelled, pulling Jesse back. “$59.50 and get out! I got a job to do here!”

Jesse riffled through his wallet and fished out three twenties and handed them to the driver and got out. “Fifty cent tip? Stingy, bougie motherfucker!” he heard the driver call after him.

Jesse had barely noticed the driver had been rude at all, he was much too lost in himself. He didn’t dwell on the man for more than a second and looked up at the building. The Campanile; a visually simple yet elegant building with a brown brick exterior.

He sighed and checked his watch, reading 2:38. He walked in, recognized by the doorman, then entered the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor. Moments later, he was exiting and crossing a private landing to the single door. With another heavy sigh, he knocked loudly and waited. 

Jesse soon heard some shuffling, a muffled giggle, and the jangling of the peephole cover. The door opened to reveal a woman with obviously sex-tousled sandy-brown hair in a periwinkle negligee. “Jesse?” she asked, stepping outside and almost closing the door behind her. “Jesse, what the hell are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

Jesse looked her directly in her face and spoke firmly, “I’m sorry, for coming unannounced, Talia. I didn’t know where else to go.” His forced composure was almost physically painful, but it was the only way his mother would respond well, all-business. 

She folded her arms and stood, thinking it over without asking any other questions. “Fine,” she reluctantly said, “but I have an early morning tomorrow. We’ll talk when I get back.” She reopened the door and moved aside to let Jesse through. He nodded and stepped inside her pre-war apartment. Her taste was almost as exquisite as Jesse’s, but more uniform. She favoured the 1920s modern aesthetic. 

They said nothing more as Talia went right, back into her bedroom, and Jesse went left into the kitchen. Her flirtatious giggling resumed shortly as he perused the liquor cabinet. Luckily, she has a similar taste in alcohol that her brother did, although for some god forsaken reason she insisted it all be French. 

Jesse couldn’t bring himself to drink French vodka, so he poured himself a tall glass of gin as he took off the tie he’d been wearing since the Morrígan’s. He swallowed the entire glass within a few seconds and poured himself another without even wincing. 

He could feel the instant shock buzz creep into his brain as he replaced the bottle, took his second glass, and left the kitchen to the bedroom on the opposite side of the apartment. He threw his jacket on the bed and roughly untucked his pants on his way to the balcony.

Late night traffic rushed on FDR Drive below him as he stared across the East River, the lights of Queens and Brooklyn shining brightly back at him. The energy in the air was amazing here. It was never calm, never quiet. There were always a million people awake and bustling in such a hurry and it seemed to calm Jesse, even if only a little. But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t escape his problems by staying here.

He took a drink of gin, as his troubles overpowered the city and invaded his mind once again. What was he doing here? Did he really think he could stay here, and with  _her_? She had never cared. Maybe he thought she could help, or at least give him the peace-of-mind to figure it out for himself. He knew everywhere and everyone in Lima would only make it worse, but Talia was an anomaly of uncertainty. 

Jesse downed the rest of his second glass in a single gulp with a grimace. He looked down at the glass and felt all his frustration begin to boil under his skin. With an angry grunt, he hurled it out over the highway. He watched it twist and twirl, then finally disappear into the dark, murky waters of the river.

"Fuck…" he mumbled, The sudden intake of such potent alcohol starting to make him a mixture of dizzy and faint. He turned back into the room and collapsed on the bed.   _Everything can wait until the morning_ , he decided, drifting off to sleep amidst the spring green linens. 


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Jesse and Talia have a conversation that's more honest then they've ever had in his life.

After waking in the mid-morning to Talia’s empty apartment, Jesse prepared himself an english muffin and butter with a cup of tea. His mother had a horrible selection only Lipton-brand chamomile and Sleepytime, but shitty chamomile was better than nothing. 

He only enjoyed about an hour of relief from his thoughts. Soon enough they resurfaced and he was reduced to a brooding mess wandering through the place. He spent several hours molding a dent in a chair, watching the sun finish rising over Queens. About noon he tried to dull his self-inflicted cruelty with some inane television programs but to no avail. They seemed to work for awhile, but TV in general had always failed to hold his attention; Daytime TY was hopeless. 

He decided to go out for a late lunch. He wandered the streets of Midtown trying to the let the chaos of the city either bring him some peace or some clarity. Then he found a quaint little café. It looked like one of those places that would become the new trendy place, then fade away as quickly as it had appeared. 

The ambience of the place was tranquil and brought Jesse a much needed calm. Just as he was enjoying a stuffed eggplant, a raven-haired Latina woman with bright blue eyes walked in and sat a few tables from him. The woman looked like Santana when the girl would feed.

Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him and he needed to get out of there. He went up to the bar and demanded to pay as soon as possible. He tipped the waitress generously for her trouble and fled. 

Jesse returned to the apartment almost worse than before. It was still empty. He guessed Talia would’ve been back by now. It wasn’t surprising for her to not be there when she said she would. She hadn’t been present in his life, why should she be here now?

He went out to the balcony and let the early evening air rush through his hair. The sunlight was beginning to turn orange and reflect off the tops of buildings across the river. Jesse spanned the horizon, from the Queensboro Bridge in the North to the UN Headquarters in the South.

Then is struck him. The UN: Jesse knew the Fae government worked in part through there. They had to coordinate with and keep tabs of the humans, as well as meet with international leaders and council representatives without raising suspicion; hiding in plain sight, as it were. 

He went back inside and into the formal living room that faced South to get a better look. It was only four, maybe five blocks away. Everything started making sense, but every realization only brought more questions.

He heard the door behind him close and he whipped around, startled. It was Talia. She put a dry-cleaning bag in the closet and Jesse turned back to resume his gaze. He heard her walk over 

"That’s where I met him, if you’re wondering," Talia answered his unspoken question.

"Who?" he countered, trying to act like he didn’t know about what she was talking.

"Your father. Were you not thinking about him just now?" He turned his head to see Talia peering at him with a unsettling glint of knowing in her eyes. His eyes. They had same foggy-blue eyes, the same colouring, both skin and and hair. They even the same innate sense for dramatics. The way they were standing in the window, gazing so intensely at each other, it was perfectly natural for both of them. 

He looked back to the glittering building knowing she didn’t need him to validate. “I was waking down First Avenue with a friend after we just had lunch. It was windy and I had my hair wrapped in an Hermés scarf for protection.” She turned her head to look outside and her gaze turned soft as she reminisced. Jesse watched her from the corner of his eye. “As we were passing in front of the plaza, the wind caught my scarf and ripped it from my neck. I desperately tried to dash after it, but there were too many people. It drifted down in front of the library and I saw a hand reach up and grab it. When the crowd parted and I saw him, tall with that long dark hair and those black eyes… Ugh! And the way he could fill out a suit!” She chuckled wistfully to herself. “We went out for dinner that night and well… I suppose you know the rest.” She leaned against the side of the window and faced her son. “You met him, didn’t you. That’s why you’re here.”

"Did you ever regret it?" Jesse turned to her and asked, "Meeting him, having me?"

Lost for words, Talia took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Yes. Then no… then so much.” Jesse scoffed and stepped away from the window. She started to follow. “Jesse wait..” 

"You know, I always knew that you never wanted me," he snapped, whipping back around to face her, "that much was clear. But I never thought you’d actually admit it. I didn’t think even you were that heartless."

"Jesse, please. Try to understand."

"Understand what, Talia? That you had an affair with my father and he broke your heart, so when I was born you decided you didn’t want me? And for what?" He threw up his hands, "For your career? Or was it just so that you didn’t have to see his face in mine every day? Was your child too much of a reminder of your mistake?"

"I think it’s time that I explained something to you," she said plainly, sitting down in an armchair. 

"What’s there to explain? You never wanted me, it’s pretty simple to understand."

"It’s not that simple, Jesse," she snarled, her quickly flashing grayer and her eyes momentarily turning a faint shade of red. 

Jesse rolled his eyes at his mother’s change, but nevertheless complied and sat on the settee across from her. 

Talia sighed, “Ifreet aren’t nesters.” Jesse laughed at the insinuation. “We aren’t. That’s why we so seldom procreate. We have an overwhelming need to be as independent as possible and to find as much as adoration as possible. We’re naturally selfish creatures. And I tried.” She paused, almost seeming to fight back an emotion. “I tried to love you and raise you. I gave you a year, and that’s more than any ifreet I’ve ever known in my 1500 years give a child.”

Jesse wasn’t buying this bullshit. Was she really attempting to blame her nature? It was just how their species worked, as if she had no control over it, as if her mind were a slave to her physiology. He looked over her with scornful scrutiny. 

She looked down, almost in shame “But I just couldn’t. The love I felt faded and I began to resent you. I still cared and had the instinct that almost any mother has, to protect her child, but the love wasn’t there. It wasn’t because you looked like Ciaran or that you were keeping me from performing as much or from social engagements. None of that really mattered.” 

She looked back up, but still avoided his gaze. “I felt like I was suffocating and I knew if I kept you, you’d become attached and expect a love that I could never give you.”

"And you thought Bernard could?" Jesse argued. "That sorry excuse for a living creature is a lazy drunk, did you really think he could give me love?"

"No, of course not." She finally returned her eyes to him. "But I knew you wouldn’t expect it from him or from the nannies I hired."

Jesse started to strike her down again, but Talia spoke again first, “Before you mention anything else, I realize leaving you so completely in their care was a mistake. I let myself become too uninvolved and that was wrong. I should’ve realized you needed someone who truly would care for you as much as you needed, which is why I let Sheryl come in.”

Jesse furrowed his brown in confusion at his mother. “What? You think I didn’t know that old fairy woman was an agent of your father’s?” She smirked smugly and crossed her legs, “Do you think I don’t have my own informants? Nevertheless, I knew that she would care for you properly. The love she came to feel for you was more than I could ever hope for.”

Jesse pondered in silence, thinking through everything Talia just told him. “One question,” he finally spoke up, “Why didn’t you just let my father take me.”

She sighed and hesitated. Jesse could tell she was apprehensive about answering this question. “If I let your father take you, he would’ve lost his position on the Council. He’s spent the last 2,000 years working his way up into his position, and he’s so close to being High Elder. Only, children are viewed as a security risk on the Council. I couldn’t let him sacrifice that for you.” 

"Why?!" He shouted accusingly. 

"Because…" another hesitation, "Because I loved him."

"Are you fucking serious!?" Jesse continued shouting. "You loved him, but you couldn’t love me!? Are you going to start spouting out some bullshit about they’re different types of love and ifreet are incapable of one but not the other?" Jesse heard his phone chime in his pocket, notifying the receipt of a text. He shook his head, pursing his lips in anger and frustration.

Talia just sat in defeated silence. “I have to take this,” was the only thing Jesse could say. He spun on his heel and briskly walked to the guest bedroom. 

He reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. It was from Blaine, “Hey, just wanted to see if everything was alright. I haven’t heard from you since Saturday. Or seen you for that matter. ”

"Fuck…" He muttered, throwing the phone onto the bed. In the argument he had forgotten about Blaine. He still had no idea what he was going to do about the boy for whom he felt he might be falling. It all slammed back into him on top of everything his mother just unloaded on him.

But he knew she was right, at least in the respects of there being a difference between romantic love and love for a child, and her being unable to feel one. He didn’t believe it was an unavoidable truth of his DNA, but he did believe it was true for her. 

And part of him, deep down in the smallest, darkest, most remote corner of his being was grateful for what she’d done.


	3. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia helps Jesse.

Jesse forced himself to sleep shortly after his fight with Talia. He just couldn’t deal with all of it. It was too much for anyone to handle, let alone an eighteen year-old.

He woke up in the early morning hours before dawn, still wearing the navy blue suit from two days ago. He was beginning to smell foul, so he stripped off his trousers and shirt before heading to take a bath.

He sank into the steaming water filling the deep porcelain basin with a moan-muddled sigh. Th warmth enhanced the scent of sandalwood in the room and soothed him more than he expected. He spend about an hour soaking and watching the sun rise through the window.

Eventually, Jesse realized he needed to actually wash himself or he’d turn from a prune into a water-fat plum. He stood and let the water drain from the tub as he stepped over into the glass-enclosed shower.

As the scalding water poured over his body, images of Blaine flashed through his mind. They were on the boy’s bed, writing and holding each other, their lips locked and desperately mashing together. A profound ache slammed into Jesse’s heart and he had to hold himself up with a hand against the wall. He remembered what it felt like to be so completely enveloped by Blaine’s raging fire— the scorching touch of the boy’s skin, the burning intimacy that reached into his chest and caressed his heart, the searing physical tightness of his body.

Jesse gasped for air and stumbled out of the shower without even opening a single bottle of soap. He hopelessly tried to push the images and the emotions so far out of his mind as he quickly tied a towel around his waist. He staggered into the kitchen, headed straight for the liquor cabinet, and poured himself several successive shots of cognac, downing each one with a grunt and a gasp.

Eventually, it seemed he was intoxicating his brain enough that he could breathe normally again. The thoughts and images were still there, they had just mixed with the others and somehow that was more bearable.

Jesse took a moment bent over the counter to breathe and compose himself. Then he poured himself a tall glass, replaced the bottle, and returned to the bedroom.

Like the morning before, he sat facing the window and watched the sun rise over the lesser boroughes and the River, drowing in his own mind.

The sun was still relatively low in the sky when there was a knock at Jesse’s door. Without even waiting for an answer, a fully-dressed Talia popped her head in to see Jesse, still in his towel looking shockingly like Bernard: dirty, matted hair, drink in-hand, staring blankly in front of him

“Jesse?” she politely asked.

He glanced over his shoulder and answered, “Im not really interested in continuing our fight right now, Talia.”

His mother looked over at the rumbled clothes on the bed, “No it’s ju- I was wondering if you needed some clothes.”

Jesse turned back with a confused, almost angry look. “I noticed you didn’t bring a bag with you,” she explained. “So yesterday I went out and got you a few things. I guessed your measurements.”

Jesse’s expression softened and he nodded. She disappeared behind the door and returned a few moments later with the dry-cleaning bag she had brought In the evening before. “Come on, let me see it on you,” she pleaded with a hint of excitement.

Jesse reluctantly stood, setting the drink of the end table. He took the bag from her and went into the bathroom. He unzipped and gawked at the contents of the bag. He instantly recognized the Prada suit. Looking further, he found a pair of black Prada briefs. He handled the clothes gingerly. While he enjoyed taking advantage of his mother’s money, he would’ve never bought something this extravagant. Major labels were wasted in the uncultured fields of Ohio.

He didn’t want to put on clothes like he was Talia’s doll. He wanted to go back to his chair and drink and try in vain to work through this.  _Oh god…_  he thought to himself, disgusted.  _I’m turning into Bernard._  He destroyed those thoughts and desires. He would not become a pathetic husk like that man who lived in his house

Carefully putting on each piece of clothing, he exited the bathroom a few moments later. The slim suit was wool twill in light-gray plaid with narrow, notched lapels above an open, myrtle green silk shit. There wasn’t a belt of shoes, so he was left barefoot and incomplete.

Talia looked him over with admiration. “You really are the spitting image of your father…” She fluttered her eyes, clearing her mind. “You need shoes” she held up a finger and opened the closet, She walked in and rummaged around, coming out with a pair of Prada quarter-brogue oxfords in mahogany and a belt to match. “Size ten?” She said with a smile. 

"No- No, Talia, this is too much," Jesse protests, still taking the accessories from her, "I can’t."

"You can and you will," she countered, turning to primp herself in the full-length pedestal-mirror beside the closet door, "Besides, it’s the least I can do. Now, I have to go, and I won’t be back probably until the late evening. I’ll take your clothes to be cleaned while I’m out." She gathered up the pieces of his suit, draping them over her arm. She turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. "Oh, and try not to mope around this place all day like you did yesterday," she added, her eyes flicking to the likely permanent indent in the chair cushion before she vanished once again out the door.

Jesse waited and listened to her heels echo through the apartment until they were finally silenced by the sound of the front door. Assured that she was gone, he considered defying her suggestion and returning to the chair. But she was right. So he just slipped off his jacket, laying it next to the shoes on the bed, retrieved his glass and stepped onto the balcony, letting the morning air wash over him. 

Inevitably his thoughts returned. What was he going to do? Did he even still want to turn Dark? What that mean if he did? What would happen to Brittany, to Sam? What about Blaine? Would they have to end things? Would they face the same issues as Sam and Quinn, or worse, Brittany and Santana? Were the two girls even alive? What would really change in his life?

He was so unsure. Everything he thought he so confidently knew had slowly fallen away in only a few weeks, the climactic collapse of his world happening in that short amount of time in the Lopez mansion. 

His thoughts dwelled on this through the day as he wandered through his mother’s home, drifting from room to room much like the day before. He managed to eat a few small meals and eventually even shower. At about half-past seven, he found himself in the formal living room. 

Jesse’s brooding was finally broken by a chime from his phone. It was a text from Sam reading,  _“_ _Hey lover.”_

He didn’t hesitate to ignore the message. He couldn’t deal with Sam right now. Several minutes of pacing later his phone chimed again with another text from the blonde,  _“_ _Yo St James, where you at? I usually get a speedier reply than this.”_

Also ignored. He sighed heavily, falling onto the sofa facing the fireplace. Why wasn’t Sam getting it? Jesse wanted to be left alone. He didn’t have the strength of will to talk to anyone. Although of everyone, Sam would probably be the easiest to talk to. That was one of the great things about Sam. He was always willing to lend an ear and his support, even if his advice was never really that helpful.

At that moment, Talia walked through the front door, talking jovially on her phone. She took one look at her morose son, now at least out of his room, before heading to her own. Jesse could hear her conversation and laughs indecipherably muffled through the wall.

A short while later, she came out and sat in the chair from the evening before, now perpendicular to him. “So what happened?” she inquired plainly.

Jesse glared at her, irritated by her presumptuousness. “What makes you think anything happened.”

She scoffed, “It’s your father. He always does something, and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here. So tell me what happened.”

Jesse’s phone chimed a third time. Sam again,  _"Are you like, mid-date or something and I’m totally messing it up for you by blowing up your phone with messages? Tell the guy I said hi."_  Jesse could help but smirk at how adorably oblivious Sam was gone. But nothing had changed, so he ignored his friend again and laid the phone next to him on the upholstery. 

After a moment of tense silence, Jesse finally surrendered and ran a hand through his hair. “I met the Morrígan and the High Elder. He was helping me switch sides.”

"Hmm." She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "Well I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew it was only a matter of time."

"What do you mean?"

"I remember when you asked me to choose the Dark before your Gathering. I knew once you turned eighteen it wouldn’t be long before your father approached you."

Jesse furrowed his brow, only confused by the new questions her answer brought.

Talia sighed, brushing a section of her light-brown hair behind her ear; this was clearly a topic she wished to avoid. It appeared they shared more than just their talent and predisposition for casual dramatics.

"I don’t mean to disparage your father or imply that anything he feels toward you isn’t genuine," she disclaimed, shifting her chair and tossing a leg over the other, "but Ciaran is a very power-hungry man. Having you at his side would be a considerable asset."

Talia’s cryptic words weren’t easing Jesse at all. “I thought you said that people involved with the Council weren’t allowed to have children.”

"They are, but now that you’re an adult, things are different, especially considering that he didn’t raise you. He probably would’ve appeared to support your artistic ventures… at first. But eventually he’d try to manipulate you into getting into politics, which might mean needing to sabotage your career."

Initially, Jesse was appalled, but he quickly realized it was pointless. He knew she was probably right. He might fully believe Ciaran wanted to be a good father, but at the end of the day, the man was dark fae. There was no doubt Ciaran would eventually use him to climb the ranks.

They suffered a stunned quiet as Jesse processed the new information. It was broken by Jesse’s phone, now ringing. It was Blaine.

"You can take that if you need," his mother offered, "I don’t mind."

Jesse knew he couldn’t talk to Blaine, not right now. He ignored the call and forward the boy to voicemail. “It’s fine…” Jesse searched for what to say. “So is that why you didn’t let me choose the Dark?”

Talia nodded. “Like I said last night, I still have that compulsion to protect you. I didn’t want you to have to go through that so I tried in vain to postpone it as much as I could. I realize it was probably a mistake not being open with you.”

Both of them looked down, experiencing fondness for each other, a foreign concept to them both. “But what I don’t understand is what went wrong? I would’ve guess you would jump at the chance to switch.”

Jesse looked away, reluctant to talk about it.

"My evening’s clear," she offered with a warm smile, "I don’t mind listening."

Jesse didn’t say anything for a moment, deciding if he should. Finally, “Well, I supposed it started when you pulled my tuition at Carmel. God I hated you for doing that! But when I went to McKinley, I met some people. First, there was Brittany, this innocent light fae nymph. At first I thought she was just a stupid, naïve little girl, but then I got to know her and eventually became her pas de deux partner. She turned out to be so sweet and caring; a truly kind soul. I treated her horribly when we first met, but she barely hesitated to forgive me unconditionally.”

Jesse shifted, hanging one leg over the other, “Then there was Sam. Again, at first I thought he was dumb and profoundly dull, but harmless. When Ciaran first showed up, he ended up being such a rock, listening to all my troubled without question or judgement. That kind of support was something I’d never experienced before.”

Talia sat and listened, perching her chin stoically on her hand. His phone chimed again with yet another text from Sam. “Speak of the devil.” He quickly read it,  _“Duuuude. I need to talk to you. You’re usually all level headed and shit and I need that right nowuhhhh. Stop being Silent Bob and tell your date there’s a guysis going on right now.”_  

He felt guilty for ignoring Sam this time, but he still couldn’t deal with the blonde. He turned off his phone because he knew the blonde wouldn’t stop and he suspected Blaine might call again.

“Anyway,” Jesse flung his phone to the side and ran both his hands through his curls again, “they both became involved with dark fae; Brittany with Santana-”

“The Morrígan’s daughter?” Talia interrupted in disbelief.

“That’s the one.” His mother turned her mouth up, impressed. “And Sam started seeing my friend Quinn-”

“Not the Fabray girl!”

“Again, yes.” It was astonishing to learn that his mother wasn’t as ignorant as he thought. “There must be something in Lima’s water, I don’t know. I mean, I never had issues with dating across the divide. Then again, I never dated anyone of noble blood and I didn’t have any light fae parents to really object.” His gaze flicked teasingly, masking a hint of bitterness.

“However, they all faced serious issues with their families for the reasons you’s expect. Santana’s father even sent a dullahan after Brittany when he found out— I learned that in the meeting. And,” He shrugged, “I don’t know, after then it all just seemed so overwhelming and so fast. I began questioning why I wanted to associate myself with such insidious people who were inflating a simple teenage affair. I mean, between grown fae like you and Ciaran it’s different, but a high school relationship is nothing.” Talia looked down at the mention of how she ended things with his father.

Jesse paused, unsure if he should bring up Blaine, if he could bring up Blaine without breaking down. “And then there’s Blaine…” 

Talia perked up, taking note of the importance of the name, “Oh? And who’s Blaine?”

Jesse felt the vertigo from that morning begin to creep back into his body. He didn’t know how much he should say, “He’s this light fae boy I met a week after Ciaran showed up. We’re kind of involved. After I learned about Santana and Brittany, I couldn’t help be think if Ciaran would eventually do the same with me. But I also didn’t know if he was worth giving up everything.”

He sat back against the sofa and huffed nervously, images from the night they saved each other drifting into his mind. ”Being with Blaine and seeing how absolutely selfless and  _good_  he is just… it- he made me seriously begin to doubt if I really wanted this. And now these people had tried to kill one of my friends, and they wanted me to bring another back as some sort of twisted initiation rite, and I didn’t know what would happen with everyone who cared about me, especially Blaine.” The vertigo slowly grew and he discreetly gripped the arm of the sofa. “I just had to get out of there, and then I found myself coming here. I guess I thought this place would be free of any related conflict.”

“Well,” Talia started, her expression turning stern, “staying here and avoiding your problems isn’t going to fix them. I know that sounds harsh, but you have to face them.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “The first thing you need to do is get on a plane tomorrow night and go back to Lima. Then you need to really look at your life and decided whether or not a superfluous label like ‘Dark Fae’ is worth even the risk of losing the people you love.”

Jesse hung his head, the obvious truth in her wisdom striking him close. “You’re right.” His vision began to blur a little bit. He tried without success to gather himself. “I think I’m going go lie down for a bit…” He mumbled. He grabbed his phone and stood up. The vertigo really hit him, but he tried to power through it, taking a few steps and balancing himself on his mother’s upright piano. It only took a short moment for the vertigo to begin subsiding.

"Alright. You go rest and I’ll take care of your flight," she said.

Eventually Jesse made it back to the bedroom and collapsed face-first into the fluffy linens. It took him several minutes to regain composure, but when he did, he turned his phone back on to do his friends the courtesy of at least checking his messages.

Sam had sent one more  _“Fine. Well at least text me to let me know if you’re okay. This quiet as shit thing is really weirding me out.”_ Jesse wanted to reach out and let Sam know he was at least alive, but he feared it would open up into a conversation he still wasn’t ready to have. So he let the guilt pack on and listened to Blaine’s voice messge.

“ _Hey… Jesse. It’s me, Blaine. I uh… I’ve just been worried. I haven’t heard from you since Saturday, and I just—”_  The same heartache that struck him in the shower that morning returned as he listened to Blaine give an uneasy sigh.  _"Just call me back when you get this I guess."_

Jesse dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, feeling tears start to well up as he cried out through clenched teeth. He was right back where he started. And he still couldn’t bring himself to call Blaine back.


	4. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse helps himself before heading home. Features Lost & Found by Lianne La Havas.

Jesse woke up late with a headache, eyes still sore from where his palms had dug in. The apartment was expectedly empty, after all, Talia led a busy life. He forced himself to go out for each meal, but the city did little to soothe his troubles. He inevitably found himself sitting in the corner of the living room staring at his phone, going over his texts and resisting the urge to torture himself and listen to Blaine.

Jesse looked up from his phone to see his mother’s whitewood grand upright across the room and it struck him. He quickly walked over and sat down to play over a few chords, the sound resonating through his soul. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

He racked his brain, searching for an appropriate song that expressed his emotions. It took him less than a minute to realize the perfect one.

Jesse slowly played the simple rounding melody intro, his heartbeat replacing the drums of the record cut. He began to sing, the lyrics relevant to many and different people:

> _Come upstairs and I’ll_  
>  _Show you where all my…_  
>  _Where my demons hide from you._
> 
> _Just look at who I have become,_  
>  _I’m so ashamed you were the one_  
>  _That made me feel the way I do._
> 
> _You broke me_  
>  _And taught me_  
>  _To truly hate myself._
> 
> _Unfold me,_  
>  _And teach me_  
>  _How to be like somebody else._
> 
> _When I felt strong enough,_  
>  _I was discovered by the love_  
>  _I had been waiting for so long._
> 
> _You told me none of that was real._  
>  _I cannot hide how low I feel  
>  To know that you were never wrong._

Playing the piano, singing this song, making music, it provided Jesse with such a perfect and much needed release he almost kicked himself for not thinking about it before.

> _You broke me_  
>  _And taught me_  
>  _To truly hate myself!_
> 
> _Unfold me,_  
>  _And teach me_  
>  _How to be like somebody else!_
> 
> _Oh! Ooohhh! Oh-I! Ooohhh! Oohh, oh, oh…_

Then he changed the lyrics of the bridge to address himself instead of the lost lover in the original song. He didn’t hear Talia slip in through the front door not even twenty feet away.

> _I’m lost and found!_  
>  _Falling out!_  
>  _My faith is broken down…_  
>  _Broken down!_

She quietly approached her son, draping another dry-cleaning bag over the back of the chair in which Jesse had been sitting.

> _You broke me…_  
>  _And taught me…_  
>  _To truly hate myself…_
> 
> _Unfold me…_  
>  _And teach me…_  
>  _How to be like somebody else…!_

Talia began to harmonize with and echo off Jesse, but he was too wrapped up in his emotions and his catharsis to stop.

> _You broke me!_  
>  _And taught me!_  
>  _To truly hate myself!_
> 
> _Unfold me!_  
>  _And teach me!_  
>  _How to be…_  
>  _like somebody else!_
> 
> _Ooh! Oooohh…_

He turned around on the piano bench and looks up at his mother. They didn’t say a word, having an unspoken understanding. With one song, Jesse had finally started on the road to healing.

"You’re going to miss your flight if you don’t leave soon," she said softly. Jesse nodded and stood. He walked over and took up the bag, heading back to his room. He changed into his old suit, leaving the Prada laid out neatly across the bed.

Moments later, he returned to see Talia just coming out of the living room wringing her hands. “I left the suit you got me in the room,” he started as they closed the distance between them. “I don’t have a way to get it on the plane..”

"I’ll send it to you, you deserve that suit," she replied awkwardly. They stood for a moment, lost as to what else to say.

Suddenly, Jesse lunged forward and embraced his mother, pulling her close. “Thank you,” he whispered sincerely, not referring to the suit at all. Talia was too shocked to respond. He pulled away from her and hurried to the door. He looked back momentarily, trying to show how much he genuinely appreciated everything she had done for him these past three days in a single, fleeting glance. Then he was gone.

When he reached the street below, he hailed himself a cab. “JFK,” he instructed the driver. As soon as they reached Second Avenue, they became entrenched in rush hour traffic. 

When they finally turned onto I-495, Jesse started thinking about what he needed to do once he arrived home. His first instinct was to go to Blaine first, but he still had no idea what he could possibly say to the boy. Sam would be easier, and maybe Sam would be able to help. 

He came to the conclusion that he at least needed to call Brittany or Santana and make sure they were okay. So he dialed Santana as the taxi descended into the Queens—Midtown tunnel, figuring she would be the most likely to still be in trouble. 

* * *

Jesse touched down in Cleveland several hours later. He had lost reception in the tunnel, but not before he learned Santana and Brittany were alright. He didn’t bother to call her back, knowing she was upset and didn’t want to talk.

He made his way to his impala, stroking it fondly before getting in. He spotted the bag containing lubricant and condoms from Saturday night still in the back seat. The memory brought a smile to his face that was quickly dashed by the return of the queasiness that had been affecting him lately whenever he thought about Blaine. But he was now able to fight it away.

He started driving towards home. Still nothing made sense, but it was starting to. He thought about what he was going to say and what the “guysis” Sam was having could possibly be. Broken workout equipment? Did he need to talk about the latest Star Trek film?

Shortly after he left the city, he felt the urge to hear Blaine’s voice, even if the boy’s worried tone left him wanting to vomit. He realized he had yet to turn his phone on after the flight. Immediately he was greeted by another voice message from Blaine. He smiled, hoping this one would be more positive.

At first there’s nothing but short, almost frantic breathing, but it doesn’t last longer than a few seconds, as if Blaine just realized the voicemail beeped.  _"Jesse? H-Hey I… I hope you’re okay. I’m really worried. Maybe that’s silly… maybe I just mis-read everything that happened and you’re… I just wanted to know you were_ …” Another pause. Jesse heard a deep breath, then a sharp shout as if the phone clattered to the ground.  _"Oh m-my god. J-Jesse. Jesse I hope you’re… wait….. M-Mom? Mom what are you…what are you doing here? Wait. Wait! No! Don’t…Mom wait!"_  Blaine’s voice faded until it couldn’t be heard anymore.

Anxiety, bordering on panic, and confusion began to infect Jesse’s chest, and he sped up. Sam would have to wait until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it ends on a cliffhanger. If you want, I can post the sequel para to wrap it up. Although there is going to be another phase in this series, I'm just not finished with it yet and I'll have to add a little summary of what's happened between Blaine and Jesse since.
> 
> Comments are always welcome!


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